


subliminal

by suheafoams



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Happy Ending, Historical AU, M/M, prince AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-25 15:32:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19748614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suheafoams/pseuds/suheafoams
Summary: “You’re not going to greet your favorite visitor, dear Prince Woojin?”The prince doesn’t reply for a few seconds. Then he turns around, glancing briefly at Chan before he averts his gaze elsewhere. “What can I help you with, Prince?” Woojin asks.(Prince Chan is a frequent visitor to his neighboring kingdom’s palace, entranced by the man who refuses to admit that they’re in love.)





	subliminal

**Author's Note:**

> This is 100% uncharacteristic writing for me and 100% cheese. Forgive all inaccuracies;; historical AUs are my jam but they sure aren’t my strength LMAO 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!!! ♥♥♥

Chan reaches the top of the hill just as he hears Prince Woojin tell the maid, “Tell him you could not locate me, and that I am away.” The prince is staring out at the view of the city, unaware that the person he is trying to avoid has already arrived. 

Chan laughs to himself, taking care not to make any noise. 

“I’m so sorry,” the maid says, giving Chan a tentative peek before she’s turned her attention back to the prince. The tension in her body releases significantly, as if she knows Chan’s presence leaves her much safer than if she was on her own. “But Prince Chan already knows you are here. Crown prince Woosung told him as such.” 

Woojin’s voice isn’t loud, by any means, but it’s icy enough to freeze the whole maid over, and probably the entire palace, too. “If I have no choice, why do you bother pretending as if I can say yes or no?”

The maid bows in apology. “I’m sorry!”

“You shouldn’t terrorize your maids,” Chan says sweetly, beckoning for the maid to get going so that Prince Woojin’s wrath is no longer directed at her. The young girl, still a bit shaky, thanks Chan with grateful eyes and quickly makes herself scarce.

Unsurprisingly, the prince remains silent, back facing Chan as he continues to stare out into the distance.

He’s wearing one of the many black outfits he owns, floral print on his silk overcoat reflecting light as the material ripples lightly in the wind. His hair is usually pin straight, top half parted flawlessly and tied into a high ponytail, but today, the locks are messily arranged as if their owner couldn’t be bothered to make himself more presentable. 

In turn, Chan is dressed in silver and white. One of the servants had told him before that Woojin prefers simple whites and grays over colorful clothing, and Chan will use whatever methods, conscious or subliminal, to sway Woojin into looking his way with more favor.

“You’re not going to greet your favorite visitor, dear Prince Woojin?” 

The prince doesn’t reply for a few seconds. Then he turns around, glancing briefly at Chan before he averts his gaze elsewhere. He’s not wearing his eye mask today, which Chan likes very much because Woojin’s face is a gem to behold, scar or no scar. “What can I help you with, Prince?” Woojin asks.

“I wanted to spend time with you,” Chan says, taking a few steps forward so that he’s closer to Woojin, who takes an equal number of steps back. “I get addressed as _Prince_ by far too many people, Woojin. I’d much prefer you call me _Chan_. Or _Channie_ , if you’re feeling particularly loving.”

Woojin sucks in a visible breath. “I won’t be addressing you that way,” he says. “Such an intimate form of address should be reserved for whoever you marry, or your close companions.”

It would be an instant blow, if Chan wasn’t so well versed in Woojin’s tendency to push away what he liked rather than pull it in directly. The prince is a bit closed off compared to the rest of the Kim royal family, but Chan has always been good at getting people to open up to him no matter how many padlocks they’ve got guarding their heart. “You’re so cold,” Chan says. “You won’t even look at me or call me as I wish you to? Even though I shared my bed with you, where we were very much intimate?”

It’s been two months since then. He still thinks about that night, how cute and honest and seductive the prince had been. Chan had been allowed to kiss Prince Woojin as much as he wanted, press fingertips into hipbones and dig teeth into soft skin. 

Chan had woken up the next morning alone in bed, with only a vest Woojin had forgotten in his haste to leave as a reminder of their time spent together. 

Days later, the marks on his body left by Woojin had faded, and Chan had been so disappointed to see them go, and so keen to collect _more_. 

“Shut up,” Woojin snarls. The tips of his ears go red, and Chan laughs. “I wasn’t myself. Stop remembering it.”

“Your manners disappear as soon as I mention anything about our physical relationship,” Chan says. “Don’t you think that’s hurtful to me?” 

Something undefinable flickers in Woojin’s face, a brief flame of emotion, but his voice remains neutral as he says, “I’m only concerned for your reputation, Prince. You must understand what others would think if they heard the first prince of Goryeo was spending time with the wrong kind of people.”

“Wrong kind of people?” Chan echoes. “What’s so wrong about me spending time with you?”

“Surely, you’re not blind,” the prince says. “And not stupid.”

He’s referring to the scar, the jagged line on his face that slices diagonally through the center of his left eyelid. As if a physical mark would be able to change the way Chan feels about him. 

In their society, visible scars are looked down upon, especially if they’re as prominent and severe as the one on Woojin’s face. The only reason he hasn’t been entirely scorned by the people is because of his status as a royal prince and his family’s unconditional love. His suffering is also a result of his own introspection, along with his reluctance to branch out emotionally the way he used to, when they were younger. 

“I am neither,” Chan says. “What does my sight and intelligence level have to do with us being in each other’s company?” 

“I heard you asked my father for permission to court me,” Prince Woojin says, quietly, with a frown. 

“Yes,” Chan confirms. 

That’s old news. Chan had asked for permission to court and marry Prince Woojin months ago. His Majesty had been very receptive to the offer, but he had also warned Chan about the obstacles he would face in trying to make Woojin his.

“Why would you do that?” 

“Because I love you,” Chan says, and Prince Woojin bites his lip at the sudden admission. “Because you ignore all formal invitations I send you, you willfully avoid me, and you attempt to block every effort I’ve made to become closer with you. I need your family’s support if I even want to find out where you are on a daily basis.”

“Have you ever considered it’s because I don’t want to be around you?” Prince Woojin asks. 

“That can hardly be true,” Chan says, taking note of how tensely Woojin’s jaw is clenched. “Do you take me to be an idiot when your body language tells me the complete opposite of what you’re saying?” 

The prince is always taking furtive looks at him whenever he thinks Chan isn’t paying attention, and on the night Woojin had given into Chan’s coaxing, he’d played with Chan’s hair and kissed his forehead when he thought Chan had fallen asleep. That’s not the behavior of someone who doesn’t want to be around him.

For once, the prince looks defeated. Chan doesn’t want to force him to do anything, but his patience is running thin at how unwilling Prince Woojin is to admit that he wants Chan just as much as Chan wants him. The atmosphere between them has always been a bit ambiguous. Woojin is receptive to Chan’s requests for spending time together and stares at Chan’s mouth more than he realizes, but he bristles at anything too friendly that goes beyond brotherly behavior. 

As an experiment done out of curiosity, Chan had offhandedly mentioned specific things he liked to Prince Woojin and _only_ Prince Woojin, such as specific fruits, sweets, and ultimately, a rare type of paper from a specific craftsman in Silla. Days after mentioning each new item, like clockwork, they would be sent to the Goryeo palace as anonymous gifts for him. He doesn’t bring this “evidence” up, though, seeing as the prince is very close to closing himself off and retreating entirely.

Chan decides to try a different approach. Less of a front on attack, more subtle, to trick Woojin into letting his guard down. “Your hair is messy,” Chan says, changing the subject. “Let me re-tie it for you.”

Prince Woojin doesn’t put up much of a fight, only murmuring his concerns about Chan getting his clothes dirty as Chan easily maneuvers both of them so that they’re sitting on the ground, laps perpendicular to each other. The prince smells faintly of herbs and soap, and Chan leans in ever so slightly to indulge in the scent, touching the soft, short hairs on the nape of Woojin’s neck. He runs his hands through Woojin’s hair, hitting tangles midway through and then sorting the knots out one at a time until Woojin’s hair is completely tangle free.

“I tried a new color for my outfit today,” he says as he parts Woojin’s hair meticulously, using his thumb to hook a few stray strands back into his grip. “Do you like it?”

“Very few colors are unsuitable for you,” Woojin says, mechanically, his words too aloof to appease Chan’s desire to be complimented fully by the person he likes the most. 

“But do _you_ like it?” Chan asks. “Or do you have other colors you prefer on me?” Hair still loosely gripped in his hands, he scoots closer to the prince, whose entire body stiffens at their sudden proximity. 

“I like you in orange, or muted golds, or dark plums,” Woojin says eventually. “But you look nice in everything.” 

“Now I know what to wear every time I come to see you,” Chan says, and separates a section out from Woojin’s hair to carefully braid. 

“You shouldn’t…” the prince trails off, making a noise of frustration. 

“Why?” Chan pouts. “You don’t like me visiting you? Do you hate me?”

The prince sighs, then shivers when Chan’s fingers accidentally graze behind his ears. “I do not hate you.” 

Chan knows that, of course, but he smiles in delight regardless. He’ll collect small victories one by one, then go in for the kill. “Then what should I do to make you like me?” he asks. “Am I not your type? Should I be more coy, less forward?” He tests out batting his eyelashes, like how his younger sister, Hanna, does whenever she’s trying to get her way with their parents. 

Prince Woojin is not the sort of man who is weak to pretty faces, however, and is immune to the numerous beauties among nobility who show interest in getting closer to him. He has to be a little _less_ immune to Chan, who’s had the pleasure of touching Woojin in ways he doubts anyone else has ever been privy to. 

“You’re fine the way you are,” Woojin says, then makes eye contact with Chan as if he’s sensed where Chan’s mind has drifted. “Prince, you shouldn’t—” 

“If you call me _Channie_ , I’ll listen to you properly,” Chan says, as he resists the urge to kiss the prince on the nose. _Timing, timing,_ he reminds himself. As long as he waits, he’ll get the right words out of Prince Woojin in the end. “What is it that you have to say?” 

“Channie,” Prince Woojin says begrudgingly. 

“Yes?” 

“I understand that there’s novelty in discovering secrets about and getting on the good side of someone who is seemingly mysterious,” Woojin says. He’s being more forthright than usual, unexpectedly. “But I didn’t think you were foolish enough to offer your hand in marriage to me. You should be saving that for a lady who you’re serious about.” 

“I am serious about you, though?” Chan says. “Why else would I ask your father for permission?” 

“I am a prince damaged both emotionally and physically by the horrors of battle,” Prince Woojin says. “An almost groom whose bride left him for reasons unknown. Any time you spend on me is a waste of your life, as I don’t have any particularly exciting ambitions and aim to live a quiet, solitary life.” 

Chan doesn’t care about any of the events that Woojin has branded on himself as inherent flaws. It would be tragic, to give up on loving someone because of situations from their past they could not control. He has no intention of taking over Goryeo, and his parents are already in preparation to have Hanna succeed the throne when she’s old enough, leaving him perfectly free to pursue the man he’s been not so subtly flirting with for years. 

He wants… to be the shoulder Prince Woojin can rest upon, the hand the prince holds when he is lonely and in need of love, the eyes the prince stares into when he’s searching for just one human in the world to understand him. 

“So you’re indifferent to me? And my earnest feelings?” Chan asks. 

“I’m not indifferent to you,” Woojin says, with a massive sigh. “Are you even listening? I’m simply telling you that—” 

“You’d have to be indifferent to me, to continue being so heartless after I gathered all this courage to confess my love for you, and claim that our time together is worthless,” Chan says. He adds in a sniffle, and the prince glances at him in alarm. “I’m _heartbroken._ ”

He can see the resolve cracking in Woojin. Just a few more pushes, and then the prince will give in. 

“I don’t mean to hurt you,” Woojin says. 

“I’m hurt the deepest whenever you act like I’m nothing to you.” Chan finishes the braid, tying the end with a thin, silver hair ribbon so that his hard work doesn’t come undone. He lets his hands linger, combing through the loose hair outside of the braid to smooth everything out. “If you don’t want to hurt me, then you should let me court you. And then marry me, if you haven’t grown sick of me by the end of the courtship.” 

“Chan,” Woojin says, his tone chastising. “I’m thinking of your future.” 

“So am I,” Chan replies, swiftly. “And I don’t want a future without you in it.” 

“You’re so impulsive.” Woojin says it like he’s years older than Chan, when really they’re only months apart in the same birth year. He’d always been calmer, even before he left to fight off enemies and returned as a mere shell of himself, preferring to leave his thoughts on a constant simmer before expressing them in an organized manner. Meanwhile, Chan’s thoughts have always crystallized much quicker, but at the same time, Woojin’s presence tends to ground him a little more solidly than anyone else’s can. 

Their differences slot together nicely, Chan thinks.

“Is that a bad thing?” Chan asks. “To be impulsive?” 

Woojin shakes his head. “It’s admirable at times, but inconvenient right now. You’re always pulling the people around you into your pace.” 

“That’s exactly the way I want it,” Chan says. “Fall into my pace faster, lovely Prince Woojin.” 

“There are so many things wrong with this,” Woojin says. “Do you realize that? I made a mistake by sleeping with you because I thought it’d sate your curiosity. Instead, you’ve returned even greedier than before.” 

“I’ve always been greedy when it comes to you,” Chan answers. “Don’t you know that?” 

The prince hesitates, defeat clear in his face. “...Why?”

“Why what?” Chan asks. 

“Why all this effort, Prince?” Woojin says. “I do not have much to offer you. Why is your attachment to me so strong?” 

Chan’s smile turns a bit sly. Woojin is relaxed enough now that Chan thinks he can switch back to his old tactics.

“You’re cold and distant, but all things soft show their belly eventually,” he answers, brushing imaginary dirt off of Woojin’s robes, using the practicality of the excuse to touch Woojin’s legs. “The adult servants in this palace are scared of what you might do because they’re old enough to speculate, but I’ve heard nothing but sweet things about you from the children. How you play games with them, and help them when they’re struggling with chores.” 

Prince Woojin tries to shy away from Chan’s wandering hands, but it’s futile. “I didn’t realize the children were so talkative about nonsensical things,” he says. His eyelashes are dark and thick against his skin. 

“Children are the best sources of information if you know how to get to their hearts,” Chan says. Woojin finally captures Chan’s hands and holds them down flat, his large palms covering Chan’s smaller ones. 

“I also like your smile, and the way you laugh, and the way you snort at me if I’ve said something humorous but you don’t want to admit it. I like when you open up your hard walnut shell of a heart to me, even if it’s just for a split second, and I particularly like when you’re too busy rambling to worry about what you look like in front of me. I love your scar, despite the pain it’s brought you, because it’s a sign of your strength and what you’ve been through and what you’re capable of.” He slips his hand out from under Woojin’s grasp, tracing the line of the scar on the prince’s face. Woojin closes his eyes, and Chan watches how his Adam’s apple bobs up, then back down as the prince swallows. 

Chan continues. “I’m also much more observant and resourceful than you think I am, my lovely Woojin. Did you think I wouldn’t notice how much you liked me? The gifts, by the way, were very thoughtful, although you were careful not to leave any trace of the sender’s identity behind.”

“What are you—” 

“You were the only person who I told about the specific paper only available in Silla,” Chan says. “Then it shows up in a pretty little package for me a week later, wrapped in black silk and red twine. You cannot be clever enough to get out of this one, Woojinnie. Perhaps if you had gone with a bright fuschia colored fabric, it would have taken me a little longer to figure out.” 

Woojin’s mouth flattens into a straight line as he deliberates for a moment. “I just wanted to make you happy,” he replies. “I always want to make you happy. But you would have made a huge deal out of it if I gave it to you openly.” 

That’s as good of a confession as any, and any remaining doubts Chan had about Prince Woojin’s feelings towards him trickle away in the face of such honesty. 

“You would make me even happier if you just agreed to be with me,” Chan says, and he leans into Woojin’s space so much so that even from a distance, strangers will know, unmistakably, what they mean to each other. In return, Woojin’s lips quirk, a shadow of a shy, nervous smile, and Chan’s heart feels like it’s going to burst at this newfound victory. “Not indifferent, not hateful. The only possibility there is left is that you’re in love with me, Woojin,” he teases. 

“Unfortunately,” Woojin says. 

“Do you mean that?” Chan asks, just to make sure. “That you really want me, every bit as much as I want you?”

“Yes,“ Woojin says, finally looking Chan in the eye and holding his gaze, and Chan pulls him in eagerly for a kiss long overdue. 

♚♚♚

“So when do you think the wedding should be?” Chan asks late in the evening. He cannot sleep, too excited at the new source of warmth in his bed. 

“I thought we were still in the courting stage,” Woojin says. His sleeping garment slips off of his shoulder as he sits up, and Chan’s eyes lock on the exposed skin, heat curling at the pit of his stomach. 

“The courting stage was done as soon as you told me you loved me. I’m ready for marriage,” Chan says. He reaches out to slide his hand down Woojin’s chest, licking his lips. 

“You’re so impatient,” Woojin says, and Chan’s unsure whether the prince is referring to his marriage plans, or the way his hand pulls the rest of Woojin’s undershirt off of his torso. 

“If I was patient like you, I’d be fifty and still pining over you,” Chan says. “That’s forty years wasted not kissing you. Horrendous.” 

Woojin hums. His hair is a mess, half of the braid hanging out of the silver hair ribbon. Chan will have to tie it again when he’s finished devouring the lovely dark prince he’s managed to lure into his chambers. 

“So,” Chan presses on. His hand wanders downward, and Woojin sends him a look that has Chan’s insides burning up instantly. “Summer or fall?” 

“Fall,” Woojin replies. Maybe he isn’t being entirely serious, but he hasn’t said _no_ to the idea of having a wedding so far, and that’s good enough for Chan. “Who’s proposing?” 

“Me,” Chan says. “I’ve got to sweep you off of your feet! Make you fall head over heels for me!” 

“You don’t need to propose to me to do that,” Woojin says, letting his head fall back against Chan’s pillows, eyes fluttering half closed in leisure. “It happened long before you showed interest in me.” 

Chan is speechless for at least a minute, and Woojin starts to laugh when he opens his eyes and Chan’s still staring at him, shell-shocked. 

It’s too difficult to hold back the smirk-smile that splays across Chan’s face and refuses to leave. “That’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me, Woojinnie!” he gasps. 

“Anything to shut you up,” Woojin says, and then breaks out into the most beautiful chuckle to have ever graced Goryeo at Chan’s sputter of indignation. 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading if u made it here! wrote this sweet n short thing to take a break from my current woochan wip which is p emotionally draining and growing larger than life in word count /runs around screaming 
> 
> mostly inspired by my love of overbearingly in-love characters + historical romance tropes + the nice fluffy romance that scarlet heart ryeo COULD HAVE BEEN but WASN'T. i've literally got at least 10 diff drafts all inspired by the visual beauty of wang so's angst but this is the first one to make it out of the dungeons and it's not that s e r i o u s, so. 
> 
> **SUBSCRIBING PSA:** if you'd like to subscribe to see future work from me, go to my profile and click subscribe there. clicking the subscribe button at the top of this fic will only subscribe you to any future updates on this specific work (which there most likely won't be any).
> 
> You can find me on twitter @ suheafoams (same username as ao3) if u want to chat :) 
> 
> comments are much appreciated! ♥  
> what does that ↑ mean, u ask? it means pls!!! leave me love in the comments section. I am a ball of crippling self doubt and anxiety. authors operate smoother on the fuel of positive affirmations!


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